


liquid measure

by silentwalrus



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes getting lovingly freaked in his sunny kitchen, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Table Sex, Two old men having a nice time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 07:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10485993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentwalrus/pseuds/silentwalrus
Summary: Just a normal domestic afternoon with two supersoldiers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, I drew [this](https://silentwalrus1.tumblr.com/post/158908991103/borky-gettin-atejpeg) and then basically incepted myself into writing it. Whoops.

Bucky blinks up from his phone screen when he hears the door rattle and realizes that firstly, Steve’s home, and secondly, he’s been half-leaning on the kitchen counter scrolling through Wikipedia for way longer than he’d meant to. Steve’s been out since 9am at some Avengers media relations strategy meeting over in Stark Tower with their lawyer and Steve’s army of PR people, and it’s after four now, the sunlight slanting in low through their windows. 

“Hey,” Steve says, coming into the main room, tossing the mail on the counter. He’s in his white shirt and nice slacks, the sleeves rolled up and his jacket under his arm in deference to the late summer heat. He looks like he got the first button on his collar unbuttoned before he forgot all about it; he’s looking at Bucky, not quite wide eyed, but like he’s seeing something he didn’t expect. 

“Hey,” Bucky says, glancing down at himself to see what Steve’s looking at, then, “Oh. Sorry.” He managed to put briefs on, at least, and a shirt, but it’s completely unbuttoned and he forgot an undershirt. “I swear I wasn’t just sitting around naked all day.”

“Too hot?” Steve asks, tossing his jacket over a kitchen chair, not looking away.

“No, I - shower,” Bucky says, but he’d gotten out of the shower ages ago, enough that only the ends of his hair are still wet. “I got distracted.”

“Me too,” Steve says, his eyes now fixed squarely on Bucky’s general… nipple area. 

“Oh,” Bucky says, suddenly on the same page; he clicks his phone off and sets it down, heading over to Steve, not bothering to try to make his walk sexy. He just ends up looking stupid and it’s not like Steve needs it. “How distracted?”

“I was thinking about you,” Steve says roughly, meeting Bucky’s eyes in that open, direct way of his. It gets Bucky like no tease ever could; it makes him almost stumble, closing that last gap between them. “All day.”

“Must have been one boring meeting,” Bucky says, only a little breathless, sliding in close so Steve can catch him and grab him close for a kiss. 

The kiss lasts a while, measured, thorough. Bucky likes it when Steve touches him absently, automatically, like of course he can and he doesn’t have to think about it, but he likes it more when the touches turn deliberate. Steve’s never rough with him but he is - inexorable, purposeful, and every touch is weighted with Steve’s full attention. It leaves Bucky feeling like he should see marks on his skin everywhere he’s touched, his skin tingling and alive with the memory long after Steve’s let go. 

When they pull off each other Bucky noses in close and breathes in Steve’s day: coffee, indoor air, paper, aftershave, salad dressing, soap. He can feel Steve doing the same in the crook of his neck, and then he has to muffle a snicker when he wonders what a full day of Pinterest and Wikipedia spiralling smells like. 

“I swear I opened the door and thought you read my mind,” Steve mutters, dragging his hand up Bucky’s back, under his shirt, and Bucky forgets what he was laughing about. “The meeting  _ was  _ boring, god, six whole fucking hours, they didn’t even need me there. I started thinking about last week and couldn’t stop.”

Bucky’s breath catches. Last week they’d broken the sofa. His internet bender today started out as a very reasonable and necessary search for a new couch that could stand up to two supersoldiers’ terrible sex habits. Still: never let it be said that Bucky would let mere arousal stop him from giving Steve a hard time. “Tell me you didn’t pop a stiffy in front of Bernie, Rogers. We need that nice lady.”

Steve cracks up, laughing into Bucky’s collarbone. “She’d still keep us out of jail,” he says, drifting his hand back down to Bucky’s hip. “Even if I embarrassed myself in front of God and country.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Bucky says, nudging in close with his hips so that their bellies touch, Steve’s belt buckle cool against Bucky’s bare skin. “It’s a pretty big embarrassment.”

“You calling my dick big, Barnes?” Steve says, pulling back so Bucky can see the full effect of his giant smug grin. 

“No, I’m calling it embarrassing,” Bucky says, but he can feel the tips of his ears reddening. “Embarrassing. Humiliating. Just, all around terrible.”

“But you also called it big,” Steve murmurs, close again, palm rubbing Bucky’s low back.

“Well.” Bucky swallows. The tips of Steve’s fingers are slipping under the waistband of his briefs and it’s suddenly hard to think. “Wouldn’t want to be called a liar.”

He can feel Steve’s grin this time, right against his cheek. “Never that.”

“It’s important to, uh. Tell the truth. Especially when you have - eyewitness testimony.”

Bucky can feel Steve trying like hell not to laugh, but he can also feel that he’s got one hell of an erection, and the scale of priorities is pretty clear in these situations. Bucky licks his lips and leans a little harder into Steve’s space. “But maybe I should check. Again. Just to make sure.”

Steve’s grinning like a loon now, lips pressed tight together over his teeth, but he still manages a very promising grope over Bucky’s ass. “I think that’s a great idea,” he says, the groping getting more intensive. “You said you showered? Got all clean for me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky manages breathlessly. “Yeah, I’m.”

“You gonna let me?”

Bucky rubs his cheek against Steve’s one more time and then turns, slow, deliberate, not leaving Steve’s grip. He gets his back to Steve’s chest and presses closer, tilting his hips out, pushing his ass into the cradle of Steve’s hips, and he bites his lip and grinds down even as his cheeks flush red. 

Steve likes it. He knows Steve likes it. Steve’s breath stutters, his hands tighten, his heart kicks up into doubletime;  _ “Fuck,”  _ he hisses, right in Bucky’s ear, and they both shudder like one person, all over. 

Bucky widens his stance a little, just a little, and rubs back again. Steve’s hands spasm this time, tight on his waist; he turns his face in and noses hair out of the way until he can bite Bucky’s neck. Bucky gasps a little at that, putting his hands over Steve’s and leaning into it, encouraging more.

It’s terrifying and heady, to do so much to Steve with so little. It’s - new, still, to be like this, to be so easy with pleasure, to bear the weight of Steve’s attention and not drown in it, overwhelmed. He sometimes can’t believe it, that he can affect Steve so much, with his scar-matted body no less, but how can he not believe it when Steve looks at him, when Steve grabs at him like that?

“Bucky,” Steve murmurs, and Bucky leans forward until his hands land on the kitchen table, left hand clicking, giving himself leverage to grind harder, closer on Steve’s cock. Steve grunts and runs his hands up Bucky’s sides, groping; Bucky can feel the heat of him through the slacks, through his briefs, pressing up close between the cheeks of his ass. Steve’s breathing is already ragged behind him. “Jesus. Bucky. You gonna let me?”

“Whatever you want,” Bucky says, hoarse already.

Steve picks him up by the thighs and tips him forward, hauling up until Bucky’s chest hits the table, breath huffing out of him. Steve doesn’t waste time, now that Bucky’s hands are free - he drags Bucky’s shirt up over his arms and tugs Bucky’s briefs down until they’re both off and tossed away somewhere. Bucky wriggles a little, air suddenly cool over his skin, but he doesn’t have time to complain with Steve still moving over him, purposeful. The minute Bucky’s naked Steve doesn’t even hesitate, just hooks his ankle around a chair and drags it over, dropping down into the seat and basically faceplanting between Bucky’s cheeks. 

Bucky arches up at the first touch of tongue over his hole, which gets him grabbed tight and held down. Steve’s hands are huge and heavy on Bucky’s hips; he squirms just to feel Steve tighten his grip. It feels so good that he does it again, bolder, then shoves up on his elbows and makes like he’s trying to crawl up the table, get away; Steve growls and yanks him back, hard, and Bucky collapses back onto the table, breathless and giggling. Steve rumbles threateningly and changes his hold, hauling Bucky’s knees into the crooks of his elbows and trapping Bucky’s legs in his grip. 

Bucky struggles happily, still giggling, until Steve bites his asscheek and gently blows a stream of cold air right over his wet hole in retaliation. Bucky yelps and twitches, his legs unable to close even a little the way Steve’s spread them, and Steve laughs under his breath before diving back in. 

It doesn’t take Bucky long to relax into it. Getting rimmed doesn’t wind him up the way other sex does: the orgasms are intense but the buildup is gentler, like this, and Steve doesn’t let him do anything, just holds him down and makes him take it. Steve’s mouth is hot on him, generous with spit, and he’s got just a little bit of end-of-day stubble that leaves Bucky feeling pleasantly raw right where he’s most sensitive.

Steve’s not fancy about it. Bucky usually likes to do the alphabet trick when he goes down but Steve doesn’t bother, just bites and licks and sucks like he really is eating Bucky, bruising him up. Bucky can feel the starched collar of Steve’s nice shirt brushing his balls - god, Steve didn’t even bother to unbutton. Bucky’s dick is dripping down his own belly, hanging upside down from the way Steve’s got his hips hitched so far up. Distantly, Bucky registers that his lower back will be killing him later, the way he’s arched and held. It doesn’t matter. He can feel the edges of Steve’s teeth where they dig in, the saliva drooling down his perineum, and he’d let Steve fuck him in any damn yoga pose he wants. 

Then Steve maneuvers until he’s got a hand around Bucky’s cock, which makes Bucky give up an embarrassing noise and jerk up again, making Steve grunt and reposition. And then Steve doesn’t even tug at him, just holds it, gently squeezing like Bucky’s cock is an afterthought, second fiddle to his own ass; Bucky has to stifle another crazed giggle. He can feel his ass cheeks sliding together now, a little, now that Steve’s not holding them apart as wide, the sloppy wetness somehow hot and cool at the same time; Steve has to push in harder to get as close, his chin bumping up against Bucky’s perineum.

“C’mon, help me out here,” Steve mutters, the words tickling, so Bucky reaches back and pulls himself open, feeling another rush of heat to his face and belly and ears. God, he must be red as a brick. He presses his burning cheek to the cool table and closes his eyes, his whole body thrumming with the feel of Steve’s blood-hot tongue moving inside him.

God. Steve’s so good to him. He doesn’t care that Bucky’s a mess inside out, doesn’t care that he’s abandoned everything to play house with Steve. Steve doesn’t tell him to man up and he doesn’t put any guns in Bucky’s hands, he just comes home in his nice clothes and puts Bucky on the table and Bucky lets him, bends over for him just like that, fingers digging into his own ass cheeks, and it’s thinking about that that does it, him holding himself open, letting Steve into him, letting Steve have any damn thing he wants. Bucky comes shuddering, toes curling, face tucked into his own shoulder with his hair half falling into his open mouth.  

Steve doesn’t let up on him through it, getting his tongue in deep just to feel Bucky twitching and clenching up. Bucky trembles as he comes down, gasping, his fingers starting to slip on his cheeks from the sweat; Steve gives him one last nip just below his hole and pulls away, giving a parting squeeze to his cock as he goes. 

They’re not done yet. Steve tugs him back and down and Bucky goes, landing in Steve’s lap with his legs still sprawled open, thighs hooked out over the outside of Steve’s. Bucky moans and twitches at the touch of the fabric of Steve’s slacks on his wet hole, oversensitive, and then Steve has to go and stick his hand down there, too, fumbling his fly open. Bucky paws blindly at Steve’s forearms as he draws his cock out, bumping against Bucky’s hole - and Bucky’s so loose they could probably even do it, it’d barely even hurt, and Bucky  _ wants  _ Steve, wants to be close to him - but Steve doesn’t let him shove back on it. Bucky half-snarls, half sobs, trying to get some leverage, but Steve just grabs him tighter around the chest and strokes himself between Bucky’s legs, brushing his hand against Bucky’s balls and softening dick with every upstroke. 

Bucky tosses his head back on Steve’s shoulder and uses his grip on Steve’s forearms to brace himself, humping back on Steve’s lap as best he can. Steve swears under his breath and bites Bucky’s neck again, hard, and between that and his hand and the grinding on his sloppy wet ass Bucky can feel another orgasm coming. “Steve,” he tries to tell him, “Steve,  _ Steve,”  _ and god bless that bastard, Steve lets go of his cock to press two knuckles hard against Bucky’s perineum. 

Bucky lets out a choked little wail and drops down harder in Steve’s lap, and Steve lets go of his waist to bring his other hand in and grab their cocks together. It only takes a few more strokes for the both of them, sloppy and straining and grunting like animals as they come all over each other, Steve with his teeth still sunk into Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky’s head lolls on Steve’s shoulder, after, panting wildly as Steve releases his neck, licks over the bite, shushes him down. Steve never seems as undone as Bucky gets after orgasm - well, then again, Steve’s usually not the one who’s getting worked over, on the kitchen table or otherwise, and frankly Steve’s self-control can be used to cut iron. And it’s nice, really, to know he can let his guard down and still have Steve operating with at least most of his higher brain functions. Bucky gulps in air and lets his muscles go slack and sinks deep into the afterglow. 

It takes a few minutes for reality to filter back in. Bucky’s not worried about being dead weight - Steve can take it, and if the chair hasn’t snapped yet it’s not going to - but he’s starting to feel thirsty and they’re getting stickier by the minute. Steve’s entire crotch alone is basically a puddle of spit, sweat and jizz. “Gross,” Bucky mumbles, still a little hazy. “An’ our drycleaners already hate us.”

“But the table didn’t break this time,” Steve points out, still breathing a little deeply. “Win some, lose some.”

“Definitely won some,” Bucky agrees, smiling up at the ceiling like a dope. “Never wearing pants again.” 

“I won’t complain,” Steve says, in his butter-wouldn’t-melt voice, and Bucky smacks his thigh, laughing, before getting up wobbly-legged to start cleaning up their mess. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- I wrote pwp!!! I did it!!!!!!! I did it!!! I choked the plot out with my bare fucking hands!!!
> 
> \- Bernie is Bernie Rosenthal, Steve and Bucky’s lawyer, in case that wasn’t clear. 
> 
> \- Title is from Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda, because i’m a cliche and also desperately bad at naming things when i can’t put the word “fuck” in ‘em. 
> 
> \- Seriously, you guys have no idea how close i came to naming this after a line in that Big Sean song. The alt titles list for this fic was as follows: 
> 
> “ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS”  
> “He like to call me bucko when we get this nasty”  
> “He eat that bucky like groceries”  
> "100 YEAR OLD CYBORG GETS ASS ATE HARDCORE XXX"  
> “Booty Stupid”  
> “Buck Off”  
> “You Can Have Your Bucky And Eat Him Too”  
> “Bucky “BOOTY SLUTZILLA” Barnes”  
> “My Neck, My back, Lick My Bucky And His Crack”  
> “Bust This Bucky Open In The Islands Of Waikiki”  
> “All You Buckies Pop Your Borghole Like This”  
> “You Won't Believe These Top Ten Heartwarming Ways This Cyborg Assassin's Ass Gets Eaten"  
> The entire lyrics of “Eat It” by Weird Al Yankovic
> 
> All of these made the proofreader want to die, so they were scrapped with extreme prejudice.


End file.
